Prett handed over the coats Jane had shed, then led her down the back stairway. When they stepped outside, Jane had a good view of the two-story brick building next door. Almost twice as long as the hotel, it sat thirty feet away across a stretch of lawn. They waded through ankle-deep snow to a door on the side of the building. "Game room," Prett said when they entered. A pool table sat in the middle of a carpeted room, surrounded by foosball, poker, and ping pong tables. A black sign proclaimed "Concessions" behind a walnut u-shaped bar. Several LCD televisions hung on the cream-colored walls, interspersed with matted and framed collections of baseball cards. Pink insulation panels covered the windows. The chilly, quiet room, poised for action, held a melancholy air.

Prett opened a door behind the bar. "Thee-a-ter." Three curved, tiered rows held leather recliners facing a large screen framed by a navy curtain. Navy carpet covered the floor, and navy wall accents alternated with beige columns along the walls. The room seemed warmer in both temperature and mood.

"Nice," Jane said as Prett led her across the room to a door near the screen. "How much do you charge to watch movies?"

"Ain't never charged no one. Figgered we'd jest give aht private invites."

"I bet your friends want to come over all the time."

"Prob'ly wud, iffen we had any."

Is he kidding? They entered a hallway, went up a staircase, and into another hallway, this one with oak flooring. Here the windows had real treatments–caramel-colored roman shades–and the nearest allowed a view of the snow-covered roofs of several buildings. The remaining shades obscured the outside world. To their left, a long, narrow room contained desks and floor-to-ceiling shelves, packed with books. They read?

Prett opened a set of bi-fold doors near the office, revealing a laundry and utility room. Jane stayed in the hall, looking at several large black-and-white photos. Their labels identified scenes from Prairie Creek, ranging in years from 1885 to 2010. The Prairie Creek Hotel featured prominently in each, except the one labeled "A. M. Smith's General Merchandise, 1917." Hey, that's this building.

"I'll give ye' that tour now," Prett offered, carrying a package of toilet paper. The hall opened into a dining area, which contained a cherry table surrounded by eight chairs with red-cushioned seats. A matching hutch stood along the far wall. The hallway and left wall were painted in a cream color, but the right exposed the original red brick, decorated with black-ink botanical sketches. An oriental rug underscored the area.

"Val's room." Prett indicated the first of two doors along the left wall. "Val's room." He indicated the second. The first door was closed, but the second was ajar, revealing an unmade bed and cluttered chest of drawers.

The kitchen had dark cherry cabinets with a sea-green tile backsplash. An island held the cooktop, and along the far end, barstools surrounded a breakfast bar. Beyond the kitchen was the living room, comprising of a leather sofa and recliners flanking a coffee table. An LCD television hung over a white brick fireplace nestled in the corner, with mocha walls on either side. A Christmas tree decorated in red and gold stood near a window, a smattering of presents underneath.

This is awfully nice for three guys. "Did Val decorate this?"

Prett sighed. "It's that obvious, ain't it?"

"He's amazing."

"He's pertinacious."

What? Where'd he learn that? A word-of-the-day app?

"We git no say in his design schemes, but we gotta live in it all the same."

"Maybe that's a good thing."

"How ye' figger?"

"Helps you cultivate a more refined taste. Better this,"—Jane swept her hand at the walls—"than neon beer signs and posters of half-naked women."

"Well now, don't be a'knockin' my baidroom design iffen ye' ain't seen it." He pointed to the last three doors. "Mah room, guest bath, front entrance."

"Oh. Can I use your bathroom?"

"Shore."

Jane stepped into the tiny half bath. Light cream paint covered three walls, with the back wall the same mocha as the living room. Two silver rings held hand towels, each embroidered with an "M." I don't even know his last name. And what's the protocol on asking for money to buy tampons? I'll be desperate soon.

Minutes later, she donned her coat again, but carried Prett's as she returned to the foyer. Dishes clinked in the kitchen, and she headed there. "I hate surprises," Prett said in loud irritation. Jane stopped. After a pause, Prett added with less annoyance, "I will suffer it then." He's on the phone. He went silent for a few moments. Jane loitered by the wall out of sight, studying yet another black-and-white photo. A large landscape this time; an ice-covered pond surrounded by snow-laden trees. "Twenty minutes," he said. "But tell GiGi forty-five."

Jane wrinkled her brow. Not just at Prett's apparent willingness to deceive his employer, but also that his hillbilly inflection had disappeared, replaced by a Midwestern accent containing the hint of a southern twang. "There's nothin' with her," he said, sounding defensive, his accent returning. "I jest hiared her to pint the hotel is all." Jane's eyes widened at the mention of herself. "What do ye' mean?" Then Prett said with exaggerated calmness, "There's no deal. I just needed someone to paint." He let out an irritated scoff. "She has a résumé, and she's not afeared ah heights." Another pause. The wood floor creaked as he paced. "Val has a wild imagination. I'll see ye' in twenty."

Clanking dishes and slamming cupboard doors followed his abrupt sign-off. I'll wait here a minute. To Jane's right, Prett's bedroom door was cracked open ever so slightly. Or maybe I'll just take a peek. She backed up two steps and slowly pushed the door open. Contrary to his assertion, his walls weren't covered in beer signs or girly posters. In fact, they contained no artwork at all. Two nightstands with lamps flanked a perfectly made king bed, with a leather wingback chair in the corner.

Jane turned her head to listen. Prett was still engaged in his war with the dishes, so she dropped his coat on the bed and crossed the room. The master bath held a glass-enclosed shower next to a whirlpool tub, with exquisite caramel-and-cream marble tiling throughout. The vanity countertop containing two sinks was clean and bare, and the only shower accouterments were a bottle of shampoo, a half used soap, and a hanging folded bath towel: mocha colored and monogrammed with "M." Jane sighed. So beautiful. And it's wasted on a man.

The closet doors beckoned her next. When she pulled them open, a light flicked on, revealing a huge walk-in, lined with cherry drawers and shelving. But more than half the rods and shelves remained empty, with an overabundance of thermal shirts making up what clothing existed. Even the shoe cubby contained just one pair of sneakers. She sighed again. I could fill a closet this size to its breaking point.

"Oncet had a cat jest 'bout drown itself, tryin' to see the bottom ah an oldt well," Prett said from the bedroom doorway, startling her.

She blushed when she saw him leaning against the doorframe. Any irritation from his phone call had vanished, replaced by an inscrutable poker face. She thrust her hands in her coat pockets. "I'm sorry for snooping."

"So was the cat. Still cloud me, though, when I rescued it."

What is he saying? "Well, I don't have any claws."

He shrugged. "Mebby ye' do, mebby ye' dun'." He folded his arms and looked at the floor. "Funny thin' 'bout that cat." He shook his head. "Ahways clombing headfirst into treble. Stuck on the roof, trapped in Papaw's oldt Ford, oncet clombed into the drayer vant. Spent me a whole summer frettin' over where it wud end up next. It finally got et by a coyotey."

"That's too bad."

"I learned me a few things, though."

"Oh?"

"Some people is laike that cat. Ahways chasin' treble. Ahways needin' rescuin'. And ye' kin't save sommun bent on they own destruction."

Jane shifted her feet. "You think that's me?"

He shrugged. "Dunno ye'. I'm jest tellin' a story 'bout a cat."

Sure you are. "You have a nice closet."

"I do."

She turned and shut the doors. "You need more clothes."

"Do I?"

"And you misled me as to your room decor." She waved her hand at his walls as she walked towards him.

Prett looked around. "Oh! Mah Bud Light signs! Mah Katy Perry posters! Val must'ah snuck in here afore ye'."

She snatched his coat off his bed and thrust it at him. "You'll have to tell him the story of your cat." She brushed past him as his brothers entered through the front door. They expressed surprise, then amusement, at seeing her emerge from the bedroom.

"And that, Miss Jane, concludes the tour," Prett said as he followed her out. Danny smirked and signed to him. "Nothin'. She insisted on seeing mah closet."

"He needs more clothes," Jane said. Danny grinned and signed to her.

"Neh, she dun' wantoo see yer closet," Prett answered, but Danny grabbed her by the hand, pulling her around the corner to the kitchen. "She dun' wantoo see yer closet!" Prett loudly repeated, but Danny ignored him. "Well, fer Lord's sake, dun' show her yer bathroom!"

Danny laughed, looking back at Jane, his eyes twinkling. He still held her hand. Trembling fits of adoration. I get that now. Even with that beard and hippy hair.

Danny pulled her into his bedroom; the one previously shut. Its airy sky-blue walls held bright photos of seascapes, lighthouses and starfish, a stark contrast to the lower half of the room. The bed held a lump of sheets and blankets, with several pillows flung about. Coffee mugs, crumpled magazines, scraps of paper, and electronic gadgets cluttered the two nightstands. The floor held piles of clothes, shoes, newspapers, more crumpled magazines, dirty dishes, a guitar case and a set of bongos. And that was just the top layer.

Danny let go of her hand. I wish he hadn't. He limped to his closet with no concern for what he might be stepping on and flung open the doors. Jane laughed. No wonder so many clothes lay strewn everywhere; he couldn't fit any more into his closet to save his life. Hangers and fabrics crammed every nook. Danny signed enthusiastically. "You and Prett need to switch bedrooms because his closet is bigger?" He nodded. "Sounds reasonable to me." Danny looked past her and signed to Prett.

"Neh," he replied. Danny flicked his hands over, palms up. " 'Cause I'm the eldest. I git the baiggest room." Danny signed again, pointing at Val.

Prett looked at his taller brother. "Eldest also trumps baiggest. 'Sides, he ain't the clothes dandy laike ye' is." Danny requested to switch rooms again. "Neh." Danny signed a question to Val, who shook his head.

"Miss Jane dun' need to see any more closets."

"I do like your interior design, though, Val," Jane said. "You're really talented." He expressed surprise at her comment before grinning. He touched his hand to his chin, then outward towards her. Danny took Jane's hand and repeated Val's gesture before pressing her hand to his lips.

"Val!" Prett snapped. "Yer smoochin' the employee! Wantoo git us sued!?" Danny dropped her hand, pointed to himself, then circled his fist on his chest. "If he bothers ye' again, Miss Jane, jest slap him."

"Um, no, it's okay." Jane's face heated. I should've been offended, not flattered.

Prett snorted. "Lookit, Val." The latter signed back, to which Prett replied, " 'Zactly right. It's the purty boys what git away with it."

Grinning, Danny pointed to himself, flicked his thumb off his chin, swirled his fingers in front of his face, and plucked his forehead. Prett took a step towards him and Danny jumped back, holding his palms out, raspily laughing. "Oh, I kin cause ye' pain without layin' a hand on ye'. Miss Jane, ye' wantoo see his bathroom? Ye' wun' think he's so 'dorable than." Prett made a move towards the bathroom as Danny scrambled over his bed. Once the latter's feet landed on the floor, however, they caught in a discarded pair of jeans, causing him to trip. He half-fell, half rolled onto the floor, still laughing. "See? Tripped up and humiliated by yer own gom. Iffen it weren't fer me, this whole place'd look laike this here pig sty."

Danny signed a reply. Prett looked at him, expressionless. Then his mouth twitched. "Yeah, ye' wud be a happy 'lil piglet, w'un ye'." He kicked Danny's boot. "Now git up. GiGi's ahready startin' to fret." Danny held out his hand, and Prett pulled him upright. In repayment, Danny grabbed his brother's head and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Oh, git off me, ye' incorrigible flirt," Prett said, shoving him away. "Save it fer the impressionable young gals."

A minute later they headed out the apartment and down the front stairs. The building's large windows and glass door were covered with the ubiquitous pink panels. "Why do you cover your windows with these insulation foams?" Jane asked.

"Repels the looky-loos," Prett said. Danny threw up his hands, then pointed at Jane, his forehead, touched both sides of his chest, and flicked his forehead with his middle finger.

I must think he's crazy?

Prett sighed. "The windows was drafty, so we used the panels to keep aht the coldt." He looked at Danny. "Now they jest keep aht the looky-loos." Danny rolled his eyes.

Outside, Val and Danny played a quick game of rock, paper, scissors, which ended by Val tossing Danny the pickup keys. Prett opened the truck door for Jane. Again with the chivalry. I should be insulted. Right? She climbed into the back seat. But I'm not. I think that makes me a traitor to feminism.

As the men settled in the truck, Jane gazed at the former merchandise building and bedraggled hotel. From here you have no idea what's inside. The design. The artistry. Danny pulled the truck away, and the buildings retreated from sight. Jane turned her attention to the men. They're like those buildings. They aren't what they appear to be. She stole a sideways glance at Prett typing into his phone. I wonder...if they insulate themselves with personal versions of pink panels.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please help me improve my writing by pointing out problems. And if you like what you read, please click the Vote button below. And comment! I love comments! 😊

Fun Fact: The Marvel brothers' apartment is based on an actual building in Chapman, NE. Originally the A. M. Smith General Merchandise store, it later housed the post office for decades. The post office was moved into a new building a few years ago, and now the old merchandise building is undergoing renovations. For what purpose, we don't yet know. 😉

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